Still it’s not easy to say that. It’s not easy to confess that there are three attempted suicides in my anamnesis. The amount could be less or more. However I definitely know: there’ll be no more attempts in my life. I’m glad to know it.
I’ve never thought that suicide is bad. Since my early childhood, from all the things that surrounded me I learnt that the only way to get over a difficult situation is to commit suicide. When I was 14, for the first time in my life I started to think over the suicide solution..
Was there any cause? Do all the suicides have a cause? Now I understand there wasn’t any cause. I was depressed; I realized how plain and pointless I am, how cruel and alien this world is, the world too big for me; there was no sense in the life – many suicides know it. It will be closer to the truth to say that I had no reasons to live than to say there were any causes to die. I studied at 8th grade then, and strangely enough the thing that put a stop to these thoughts was a row of problems that our family met.
Until grade 10 the wish to die took turns with the wish to live. There happened some happy periods, but they were not filled in with anything important. During the periods ‘between’ I felt like an alive corpse. How I could be glad with my life when I was permanently suffering some fears: what if I never join a university and find a good job; also I have awful nature that will lead me to future problems as my relatives told me constantly. I was afraid that my friends left me and didn’t remember about me. Why should I wait for the troubles? I’d better not live until them.
Then I finally decided to do it after the school graduation not to draw attention to me. Certainly, when things went on too bad, I wanted to do it ‘here and now’ but I persuaded myself to wait – it would not be too long, would it?
When preparing to die, as every ‘normal’ egoist I was absolutely sure that they would forget my betraying soon and their life would go on as if nothing had happened. My elder sister would take care of my mom, they always held her up as an example for me. My friend would find other friends, she was always better than me in this ability. I calmed myself and also thought that it would be better for mother to live without our constant arguments. The real motivation was, as I understand it now, I’ll be indifferent to all this after the death. I will achieve what I wish and damn everybody! How disgusting it all is, I would slap in the face myself of that time if I could.
At first, when I began thinking to escape from this world, I didn’t have enough courage, I pitied all them. It stood in my way and I started removing the pity. I brought up cruelty and indifference to my neighbors. It is easy to do bad things… My progress was so large during two years (since 8 up to 10 grade) that I became disgusted with myself. I wanted to live even less feeling that I am such a stinker.
However a piece of my ego that could be called ‘the rest of my conscience’ showed itself by refusing to give me the image of my dead body and how it would be found. The worst thing I was afraid of was to survive – how would I dare to look in their eyes? I stopped thinking about it, I made myself to stop – how it would be, what pain they would feel. If I gave in to these thoughts I would be disable to commit suicide.
That was my own free-willed way to hell and before it I ‘graduated’ the school ‘how to get stuck in hell as deep as I could’.
School-leaving party, high time to act. However still I did not have enough courage. I pretend that everything is OK, apply to a university and wait for the result. I got grant – it was my day dream two years ago – and will indifference. I wait till September and become convinced that I am an absolute zero (I mistook with the choice of the future profession, it turned to be too complicated for me). How glad I were if this crazy feeling appeared when one is indifferent, the level of adrenaline is high in the blood. I didn’t have these feelings, even no apathy or ‘aristocratic sorrow’ when nothing makes you live. There were ‘the arguments of common sense’ and instinct of self-preservation, that had not disappeared and that I had to overcome. One should not underestimate it, you don’t know what it can. My mundane affairs were over in the middle of September.
During the years of preparation I chose several ways to commit suicide. I have some medical knowledge , so I thought over everything, taking into account all the known parameters and having read many reference books. I tried to die for four days.
I’m glad to say that it’s much more difficult than it seems. I didn’t wish to cut my veins, so I tried to put in my big femoral vein a catheter, but the blood coagulated quickly. However, big bruises appeared, so I had to explain them: ‘I fell down’. I took drugs twice, nitroglycerine, I just fell asleep as a result. The last day came and I injected myself 15 sm3 of oxygen. I was impressed because I gasped, it was painful to breathe, my heart beat as if it were crazy, but death did not came. Then I tried heparin (for the blood to coagulate slower) and blade, and a basin with hot water. I lost consciousness because of weakness, woke up later and saw that an hour was left until my mom came and I was still alive. What I could do else? I gave myself to despair. I took aspirin and papaverin out of first-aid set, ate them and something else, but soon it threw up. I forced myself to hide my shoes (I pretended that I went out), threw away the blade, cleaned the bathroom, took the basin with hot water and crept away in the pantry to die as a rat. I looked in the mirror – blue lips, cyanosis, not much time left. Can one reach such state, that he starts to claim God to push him in the abyss standing at its edge? I did… hearing the steps…
All, that I was afraid of, happened… I still hear my mom’s shout, full of despair who decided that I had died. I can’t forget it. I can’t forgive it myself. I was left in this world just due to the mercy of God, not having deserved His kindness.
I remember the state when vital strength leaves you, but some part of you, that is far from your mind, tries to grasp the rest of the consciousness, this world – the world that you dislike so much and that is still yours. I hoped for something better - this hopes is always in our soul, up to the very end.
Then I went through everything – resuscitation, jeers, false acknowledgement of the mistake…
After attempted suicide life does not become easier. Emotional state is still very awful, but you discover that when you are alive and just think about it and nobody knows about it – it’s not so bad. Yes, there were some physical circumstances and they are. One doesn’t think about the circumstances before – I don’t care about them because I don’t want to live. But they are not the most unpleasant thing. The thing is that people avoid those who has attempted suicide. They are ruled both by pity and contempt. It’s like a splinter that does not let either you or your neighbors your betraying. Also there are years of disability to speak on the topic with anybody.
After that I didn’t have strength for a new attempt and I decided that is something leaves me here so insistently, it should be so. I postponed the death for the time when I had nothing else to do. During these two years I postponed it many times more – I waited a day more, I overcame a day more. But I did not forget that the day would come. I prepared myself the place where and how I could do it…
It lasted two years more before my life changed greatly with the help of Him, Whom I needed so much during all my life and with the help of wonderful people. Many things in my life have changed since then. Many things happened that I’d better avoid – and I turned to be able to go through them. The shank appeared that forms the life and the fears stopped tormenting me so much. A man is bigger than he seems to be and he is able to do something greater than run away from a small dog or jump into nettle. The more you live, the more such ability frightens you – and it’s normal reaction to suicide.
Even such ill nature can be changed. The most important thing is the wish to work at yourself, and one day the thoughts that poison your life will disappear, and some time later the wish you live will definitely come. I always knew at heart, how wonderful it is to live.
Evelyn, 20 y.o.
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